Bona Fide
by roysenal
Summary: He flet ashamed of what he felt. He did, he really did. He had tried to get over his feelings, to move on, but he couldn't. They were too strong. Seeing her again, happy in uniform... he didn't want to get over his feelings anymore. He wanted to tell her. He needed to tell her everything. Takes place during Depths. Traught.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice: Invasion.**

* * *

Nightwing swallowed a lump that was forming in his throat as he sterilized the crook in her arm.

"You look more nervous than I do," Artemis commented. Her body went ridged as he pressed the needle into her skin, taking blood through the syringe. Her body visibly relaxed when the medical instrument was removed from her skin.

"I'm just worried that this is going to be a little too _authentic."_

Artemis rolled her eyes, "I'm not that rusty."

"Oh, I know," Nightwing said, dabbing a cotton ball on her arm and wrapping it in surgical tape, "the star of Stanford's archery team with a national title in her quiver."

Artemis arched an eyebrow, "Keeping tabs on me, are you?"

"I_ am_ a detective."

Artemis punched his arm, he own arm recoiling in distaste.

"Damn, Nightwing," Artemis said, shaking her arm out, "What happened to the scrawny little Robin?"

"Puberty," Nightwing said simply.

Artemis laughed; a smile formed on his face. It wasn't his mischievous grin, or his laughing cowl, it was _her_ smile.

He took her in. Her body was leaner, taller, so was her face. Her hair was shorter, still long, but short. It was blonder than when she was younger, thanks to California. The sunset complemented her skin beautifully, _sexily_. There wasn't a light in which she looked bad.

"Put that blood away before you drop it, okay?" Nightwing came back to reality; he hadn't realized he was still holding the vial of her blood – the vial of_ her_.

"Right." He placed the tip of the syringe into a miniscule hole in one of his gauntlet cubbies. He pressed down on the top, "Hopefully I won't deploy this on accident."

"You better not," Artemis said, "I really want to be on my game for this."

"You seem excited," Nightwing noted.

Artemis' expression fell a little. She looked away from him and onto the ocean. "Well, we do have a nice view…"

"It's okay to be scared, you know."

"It's not me I'm scared for."

Nightwing sighed, "I know I'm not Wally's favorite person right now…"

"This has nothing to do with Wally."

Nightwing felt ashamed that that pleased him.

"This has to do with stopping the Light once and for all, and he's not willing to help." Artemis sounded a little annoyed, Nightwing's shame increased. "I understand where he's coming from and all, but he's being way to over protective. I can handle myself."

"I have no doubts about that."

"At least some_one _believes in me."

"It's really, really nice to have you back, Artemis."

Artemis smiled, Nightwing's hearted clenched. "It's nice to be back. I hadn't realized how much I'd been missing it. Which is pretty much exactly what Wally's afraid of; he's worried that the rush that comes with the mask will get its hooks in, and I won't give it up until my dying day."

Nightwing returned the smile. He'd been watching her movements as she got comfortable with her combat bow, listening to her voice, all husky and nostalgic.

"I know _exactly _what you mean."

Artemis grinned mischievously, "You always do."

He did, didn't he? He always knew what she meant; he always knew her intentions, her reasoning, her endgame, her next move. He always knew. He always understood. He gets her. He really, really gets her. She is the same, to a lesser extent. All this cowl wise, all things business related. Even things Wally related. She knew exactly what he meant.

She just couldn't see what he wanted her to see, though. She couldn't realize what he realized.

When the mission or the team or the suit was in the mix she got him too. Take that away to casual life and the mix went away. He was _always_ under the cowl. Over five years and she _still _doesn't know his name, what color his eyes are, where he lives, who he is_, his whole identity_. It took her forever to stop calling him 'Robin' and to call him 'Nightwing;' She only did stop when the second one was murdered. She doesn't even know that they went to the same school together. That he was the one to get her to dance at homecoming her second year there; that he was the one to take that picture on the first day.

That picture.

He still had it.

All these years, he still had it.

It was in one of the secure files on his HCG right now…

He had been yearning to tell her for ages, still was. He had desired to tell them all. But he desperately needed her to figure it out. She never did, came close to doing so, but never did. She isn't that great at the obvious – Wally was, unfortunately.

_"Nightwing!"_

He dropped the binoculars and whipped out his eskrima sticks, prepared to attack-

"O_-kay_," Artemis said, arms crossed, foot tapping against the floor, "You are definitely more worried then you let on if you're zoning out like this."

Nightwing put his weapons away and stood up straight. "Just… lost in thought, that's all."

Artemis gave him a pointed look, "I know you better than that."

Nightwing sided and turned his head; they did have a nice view…

He turned his head back to her. She was standing right in front of him, her hand on his shoulder.

He had a choice to make.

He reached up for his mask, but her hand stopped his.

"I told you," she said softly, "I don't need to know."

He intertwined his fingers with hers; she made no effort to break away.

"I want you to know," he said just as softly, "you _deserve_ to know."

"Now isn't the best time…"

"What if you don't come back?" He pressed, "Artemis there is a chance that you won't come back, or that one day I won't from a mission or patrol. I want you to know, I_ need_ you to know, from _me_."

Artemis squeezed his hand tightly – Nightwing didn't know if it was to comfort him, or to keep him from taking his mask off. Or both.

_"Please."_

Artemis brought her other hand up to his face. She stroked it with the back of her hand. She ran her fingers through his hair.

Nightwing placed his hand on the small of her back and pulled her forward.

Their eyes were locked, and Nightwing wished so badly that she could see his.

He still felt ashamed. He felt ashamed for what he feels. He feels ashamed for what he's about to do.

Carefully he leaned forward, and gently kissed her forehead. He whispered something into her skin. Artemis' eyes closed slowly and she pulled him into more of a hug.

They didn't pull away until the sun was completely gone.

Nightwing recognized the look on Artemis' face, the look she was giving him. He had only seen her give that to one person and one person only. Wally.

Artemis pursed her lips, and let out a timid-esque - like she was unsure how to proceeed, phazed, stunned, cautious, anxious - whisper.

"Get traught or get dead, right?"

Nightwing swallowed a lump that was forming in his throat as he sterilized the crook in her arm.

"You look more nervous than I do," Artemis commented. Her body went ridged as he pressed the needle into her skin, taking blood through the syringe. Her body visibly relaxed when the medical instrument was removed from her skin.

"I'm just worried that this is going to be a little too _authentic."_

Artemis rolled her eyes, "I'm not that rusty."

"Oh, I know," Nightwing said, dabbing a cotton ball on her arm and wrapping it in surgical tape, "the star of Stanford's archery team with a national title in her quiver."

Artemis arched an eyebrow, "Keeping tabs on me, are you?"

"I_ am_ a detective."

Artemis punched his arm, he own arm recoiling in distaste.

"Damn, Nightwing," Artemis said, shaking her arm out, "What happened to the scrawny little Robin?"

"Puberty," Nightwing said simply.

Artemis laughed; a smile formed on his face. It wasn't his mischievous grin, or his laughing cowl, it was _her_ smile.

He took her in. Her body was leaner, taller, so was her face. Her hair was shorter, still long, but short. It was blonder than when she was younger, thanks to California. The sunset complemented her skin beautifully, _sexily_. There wasn't a light in which she looked bad.

"Put that blood away before you drop it, okay?" Nightwing came back to reality; he hadn't realized he was still holding the vial of her blood – the vial of_ her_.

"Right." He placed the tip of the syringe into a minuscule hole in one of his gauntlet cubbies. He pressed down on the top, "Hopefully I won't deploy this on accident."

"You better not," Artemis said, "I really want to be on my game for this."

"You seem excited," Nightwing noted.

Artemis' expression fell a little. She looked away from him and onto the ocean. "Well, we do have a nice view…"

"It's okay to be scared, you know."

"It's not me I'm scared for."

Nightwing sighed, "I know I'm not Wally's favorite person right now…"

"This has nothing to do with Wally."

Nightwing felt ashamed that that pleased him.

"This has to do with stopping the Light once and for all, and he's not willing to help." Artemis sounded a little annoyed, Nightwing's shame increased. "I understand where he's coming from and all, but he's being way to over protective. I can handle myself."

"I have no doubts about that."

"At least some_one _believes in me."

"It's really, really nice to have you back, Artemis."

Artemis smiled, Nightwing's heart clenched. "It's nice to be back. I hadn't realized how much I'd been missing it. Which is pretty much exactly what Wally's afraid of; he's worried that the rush that comes with the mask will get its hooks in, and I won't give it up until my dying day."

Nightwing returned the smile. He'd been watching her movements as she got comfortable with her combat bow, listening to her voice, all husky and nostalgic.

"I know _exactly _what you mean."

Artemis grinned mischievously, "You always do."

He did, didn't he? He always knew what she meant; he always knew her intentions, her reasoning, her endgame, her next move. He always knew. He always understood. He gets her. He really, really gets her. She is the same, to a lesser extent. All this cowl wise, all things business related. Even things Wally related. She knew exactly what he meant.

She just couldn't see what he wanted her to see, though. She couldn't realize what he realized.

When the mission or the team or the suit was in the mix she got him too. Take that away to casual life and the mix went away. He was _always_ under the cowl. Over five years and she _still _doesn't know his name, what color his eyes are, where he lives, who he is_, his whole identity_. It took her forever to stop calling him 'Robin' and to call him 'Nightwing;' She only did stop when the second one was murdered. She doesn't even know that they went to the same school together. That he was the one to get her to dance at homecoming her second year there; that he was the one to take that picture on the first day.

That picture.

He still had it.

All these years, he still had it.

It was in one of the secure files on his HCG right now…

He had been yearning to tell her for ages, still was. He had desired to tell them all. But he desperately needed her to figure it out. She never did, came close to doing so, but never did. She isn't that great at the obvious – Wally was, unfortunately.

_"Nightwing!"_

He dropped the binoculars and whipped out his eskrima sticks, prepared to attack-

"O_-kay_," Artemis said, arms crossed, foot tapping against the floor, "You are definitely more worried then you let on if you're zoning out like this."

Nightwing put his weapons away and stood up straight. "Just… lost in thought, that's all."

Artemis gave him a pointed look, "I know you better than that."

Nightwing sided and turned his head; they did have a nice view…

He turned his head back to her. She was standing right in front of him, her hand on his shoulder.

He had a choice to make.

He reached up for his mask, but her hand stopped his.

"I told you," she said softly, "I don't need to know."

He intertwined his fingers with hers; she made no effort to break away.

"I want you to know," he said just as softly, "you _deserve_ to know."

"Now isn't the best time…"

"What if you don't come back?" He pressed, "Artemis there is a chance that you won't come back, or that one day I won't from a mission or patrol. I want you to know, I_ need_ you to know, from _me_."

Artemis squeezed his hand tightly – Nightwing didn't know if it was to comfort him, or to keep him from taking his mask off. Or both.

_"Please."_

Artemis brought her other hand up to his face. She stroked it with the back of her hand. She ran her fingers through his hair.

Nightwing placed his hand on the small of her back and pulled her forward.

Their eyes were locked, and Nightwing wished so badly that she could see his.

He still felt ashamed. He felt ashamed for what he feels. He feels ashamed for what he's about to do.

Carefully he leaned forward, and gently kissed her forehead. He whispered something into her skin. Artemis' eyes closed slowly and she pulled him into more of a hug.

They didn't pull away until the sun was completely gone.

Nightwing recognized the look on Artemis' face, the look she was giving him. He had only seen her give that to one person and one person only. Wally.

Artemis pursed her lips, and let out a timid-esque - like she was unsure how to proceed phased, stunned, cautious, anxious - whisper.

"Get traught or get dead, right?"

* * *

_Thought you should know_  
_I've tried my best to let go of you_  
_But I don't want to_  
_I just gotta say it all_  
_Before I go_  
_Just so you know_  
- Jesse McCartney; _Just So You Know_

* * *

**rolls into the sun**

_**~ roysenal**_


End file.
